Eric takes a tumble...part 2

Eric takes a tumble, Part deux

Ever since I�ve been able to post photos, I feel the need to do so nonstop. Hopefully this sickness will remedy itself, but until then...here�s another one:

This is my friend Vinh and me at his apartment in NYC before a night of debauchery. Gotta love the CCCP t-shirt.

Alright folks, from the previous entry it is now known to the two people that read this diary I�m capable of causing myself serious head trauma. The following story is not head-hitting related, but a funny story of how I managed to wake myself up one morning by going down the stairs much faster than I should have.

I was still in high school and I believe this was during my senior year. I have a little trouble getting up in the morning, even to this day and I think my problem is that instead of an alarm, I need someone to walk in my room at the designated time and either suddenly grab me by the shoulders and shake the shit out of me, or set off an air horn. Each one of these has it�s pros and cons and I�d be tempted to say I�d prefer whoever was the waker-uper for me that they choose them at random so that I wouldn�t get used to one specific method. If you have any other suggestion, or would like to be the one to shake the shit out of me, let me know.

That having been said, my alarm goes off and fails to wake me up, so I hear my mom calling from downstairs about 10 minutes after I was supposed to have been downstairs having breakfast.

�ERIC! Are you getting up?�

This causes me to get out of bed without moving the sheets or bending my knees. I put some socks on because it�s winter time and my tootsies are all kinds of cold. I slip those mothers on and make my way towards the staircase which is hardwood. Being that it�s cold, my feet are dry as a bone and my socks are not helping matters as far as traction. I take one step and my foot loses all control and suddenly I�m skiing down the stairs. All you hear is * AHAHAHAHAHHA THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP*. I managed to skip down five steps on one foot, banging my heel on the edge of each one. I grabbed the railing and held on for dear life. After I had finished my mogul run, I was sprawled out down the first half of the stair case. The noise coupled with my girlish squeal on my day down caused an immediate �ERIC, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?� from my mother. I didn�t hit my head or anything, although my shoulder felt like it had just been through an Olympic hammer throwing competition. I was swinging by my one arm on the stairs. I told her I was okay and then got up and shook off the sudden rush of adrenaline that had pulsated through me. You know that feeling of goose bumps/fear/weightlessness? Anyway, I took a deep breathe since I was now fully lucid and took one more fatal step and once again *AHAHAHAHAHAH THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP*. There I was, dwindling from one arm again, like a monkey in a tree. I managed to surf down the same amount of steps only this time, my mother didn�t say anything. I calmly walked to the table, poured my bowl of cereal and went on with my day. If there was ever a time I wanted a video camera, it would have to be when I hit my head on the door frame, but this is a close second. I went down the stairs with the very little effort. Every morning is an adventure. I did the same thing when I lived in Florida, although the stairs were carpeted and I slid down them as opposed to grabbing for something. I blame it on the alcohol. I had a better pose after that because my knee was bent and it looked like I was stretching to go on a 10K.

So that concludes the second portion of my tumbling experience...the third one involves stapes, a prescription, and a bloody t-shirt. Stay tuned.

e.